Whispers of Glory
by ColDekker
Summary: Wildrider back in the earliest days, before the war. Based on some RP that occurs on a MUSH. A very short story that provides some insight into the slow steps Wildrider takes as he slowly loses his processor. Nothing terrible or graphic. Some violence, must of it rather muted. Enjoy!


It was always in the quiet before the match, but the voice always can call into him telling him the truth that he said desperately tried to hide.

"I know who you are", the voice seductively whispered to him.

"No, I'm not him anymore", was all the poor mech could muster in response.

"Yes, you will always be him." the voice softly crooned into his audio receptors.

Thankfully, the noise in the crowd interrupted the conversation with the haunted voice. Steadily, the crowd continued its chant for Energon, the sound of the crowd cascaded into cries for death, just like it always does.

The guard turned towards the caged gladiator, who a moment before was talking outloud to no one. Slowly, appraising the gladiator he paused a moment to speak, "I think this is the last time, I'll ever have to open the door for you. I can't say I am going to miss you."

Leaving him one more time, the voice always gave him one last whisper, slowly caressing his audio receptors, it whispered, "Show time." A twisted grin formed on the Gladiator's face as the voice always comforted him after it finished tormenting him. A sick cycle he knew only death could stop.

Turning towards the crowd, the gladiator strode into the pit. His hands raised high above his head. The crowd favored him this cycle; they chanted his name.

"The Wildrider! The Wildrider!" Some spat his moniker at him. Others sang it loudly. Like a wild beast deciding whether or not it was dying or struggling to survive, his standing with crowd ebbed and flowed.

But this cycle was different, he could feel it in his circuits. The crowd favored him and the chants of his name roared back to life!

All Wildrider could do was cackle! Finally, his tiredless efforts paid off! The crowd loved him, soon the credits would come flying in. He would at last be free of his debt, and with that his bondage!

Wildrider's internal elation was short lived. In a loud crash, reality shattered the fantasy world Wildrider temporarily sought shelter in. Across from the crazed gladiator was a tired old and busted Mech. Better cycles had long sense passed this poor heap. Rust had claimed nearly every inch of his body and it looked as if he was already in the slag heap.

The announcer broke through the diminished crowd chants. The sicking cheerful tone of the announcer smoothly relayed the crimes this pitiful Mech had committed. Most of the crimes were fabricated. In reality all this Mech had done was take a politically unpopular stance

Wildrider's cackle enveloped the old Mech like a tattered cloak. Wildrider continued cackling knowing why he had the crowd. He was their executioner.

Transfixed by bewilderment, Wildrider just stared at his...opponent? His victim? His savior? As if the read his thoughts, The old Mech feebly moved his lips the sounds of "I forgive you" left his ancient lips.

"I don't." The voice cooed in his Audio Receptors. "Stop now and be returned to me," the voice softly offered, never before had it spoken to him in the pit.

Then it him, the crowd was silent, the world was silent. Expectations began to weight on Wildrider as he walked towards the soon to be deactivated body.

"Stay with me, D-53. Return to us." the voice whispered to him as the voice took shape around the ancient Mech. The lithe sleek form of a femme he had never seen slowly merged with the ancient mech until they were one.

"Cycle down and we will spend eternity together, living in the warmth of the All Spark. Please remember. "

The cackling sounds emitting from the Wildrider said far more than any words could. It told the story of how D-53 was no more. All that remained, The Wildrider. His hands reached out as he began choking the life essence out of the ancient figure. The old mech's voice trembled as he managed to sputter out. "I forgive you. "

"So do I" the voice whispered as she disappeared back into Wildrider. "Enjoy the quiet. " it huskily breathed before being replaced by the roar of the crowd.

"That Dead End, was the first Mech I ever murdered. " Wildrider sloppily stated to his companion, the effects of the high grade rendering his voice and movements weak and sluggish. The familiar coldness of the overcharge continued to strip away his senses.

Just before blacking out, the voiced whispered to Wildrider, "No that is the second Mech you ever murdered. You murdered us first, Wildrider. " The voice quietly whispered to him, that was the first time Wildrider ever heard the voice call him that.


End file.
